The Revenge of Yoga
by SineTimore
Summary: Castle thinks he's ready for Beckett's lesson plan, but he has no idea. *One shot*


**Disclaimer:** What a waste of their money it would be.

**AN:** The stillness and silence of acupuncture is to blame for this. As a result, I may never go back. To those of you who've decided to watch tomorrow's episode as it airs, I wish you a Happy Castle Monday.

* * *

_**The Revenge of Yoga**_

She eyes him thoroughly as he steps into the apartment, down and up and down again. She does that now, a lot. She did it then too, to be honest. She was just a lot more subtle about it. On this particular occasion, it's an ocular imperative and, unfortunately for her, she can already foresee how this is all going to play out.

He had asked her, begged her really, to pick something that she loved that they could do together. As she had expected, he had already dismissed her first three offerings: go see a play (_I get enough of that with Mother._), go to the shooting range (_Showing you up again could now prove detrimental to my sex life._), and rent a paddleboat in the park (_Are we tourists now?_). It had appeared obvious to her that actually leaving the apartment for an activity was never going to happen. Knowing him, she surmised, this was probably his plan from the beginning. She had thought about it into the night before picking up her phone and calling him, stating only "Be here at 9am, Castle, and be dressed for yoga" before promptly hanging up and going to bed. Indoor fun it is, she thought smugly.

So, here he stands in her kitchen looking like a thief of a man, dressed head to toe in all black. The V-neck tee is acceptable, she notes, but the track pants, the black sneakers and the black cap are a mystery. "Castle, I told you to be here dressed for yoga, not a middle-of-the-night museum heist." She swipes the cap from his head and tosses it on the counter, trying to push from her mind just how adorable his obviously unattended to morning hair looks. "Do you have any shorts here in your drawer?"

"You seem very concerned about my being dressed, Detective," he jokes, taking a step towards her. "And while I appreciate that concern, it isn't necessary because I won't be for much longer."

"Cas-" she starts, as he grabs the waistband of his pants with both hands and pulls. "Tear-away pants? _Seriously_? Wait, let me go and grab some singles, Ricky," she giggles.

"For the record, it's Racy Ricky, and that reveal alone was worth a five." He discards what's left of the pants at her feet and steps out of his sneakers. "Now, are we gonna do this yoga thing or what?"

She looks him over once again with a grin, and points him in the direction of the mats rolled out next to each other on the floor. "So, I'm going to go fairly easy here, Castle, since it's your first time."

"Okay, look," he chuckles, "I may be a virgin yogaer…yogaist…yogaman, whatever, but I happen to be an expert at Twister so this shouldn't be too difficult. Plus, you love it and it does _your _body damn good, so I'm sure I'll love it."

He takes a seat on one of the mats and watches as she does the same. "Are we done yet?" he asks, secretly hopeful. The hair that's fallen loose from her ponytail is dancing on her cheekbones and he'd like nothing more than to push it back from her face as he presses her against the nearest flat surface, but instead - "Kidding," he laughs.

"First, we need to stretch so-"

"I thought yoga _was _stretching?" he interrupts with seemingly genuine confusion.

"Castle!" she barks, "Zip it and let the teacher teach, for crying out loud." He sits silently but she can see the words seeping from every pore. "Oh, what is it, Castle? Spit it out."

"Kate Beckett teacher fantasy fulfilled!" he exclaims jubilantly. "Now, if this lesson ends with me banging-"

"Richard Castle!"

"Erasers, Ms. Beckett, erasers," he continues with a wicked smile, "It'll be just as I've always imagined. And, by the way, you _always_ give me an 'A'."

"You know what, my star pupil," she begins with utmost sarcasm, "we're going to skip the stretching and just get into it. You game?" Yes. She absolutely knew that it would go like this.

"Left foot green, Detective. Let's go."

* * *

Thirty minutes later, his shirt is entirely soaked through with sweat and his breathing is, at best, inconsistent. She can't help but smile inside given earlier assertions of his assured prowess. As she guides him through the Downward Dog pose, it's audibly apparent that he's having difficulty. With a hand on each of his hips, she presses her body into his from behind to help hold him in place.

She's turned on by it. She won't admit it but she's turned on by it.

"You know, Ms. Beckett, with you touching me like that, you should feel very grateful that all of the blood has already rushed to my head, or I might be taking advantage." They're empty words, of course. He can barely feel his limbs. Already. In fact, the odds of him making it one foot off of the mat when this is over are slim to none.

"Charming talk, Castle, but you aren't supposed to be talking at all." She tightens her grip on his hips. "Feel free, though, to continue grunting in pain. It's healthy to express your true feelings," she taunts.

"That's not…can you help lift me up, please?" She moves around his body until she's standing before him where he uses her body like a rope ladder to upright his own. "Thank you. And, those were not grunts of pain but rather my body's way of expressing gratitude for the wonderful gift that you've given it."

"Ah, I see," she snickers. "So, then, same time next week good for you and your body?"

"How about I consult my schedule and get back to you on that," he chokes, adding "if I can make it to my phone" under his breath. She hears every word.

She steps away from him and grabs her mat from the floor, which she rolls up and places back in the hall closet. When she returns, she can tell that he still hasn't moved a muscle. "That concludes our lesson for today, Racy Ricky. You're dismissed. The mat goes in the closet."

"Where- where are you going?" he asks as she moves toward the bedroom.

"Well, each yoga session ends with a hot, steamy, soothing bath, Castle. Feel free to join me if you have no after school plans," she utters suggestively.

"I'm free!" he blurts enthusiastically, until he remembers that he can't currently figure out how to make his legs work.

"And, Castle," she calls over her shoulder, "if you can make it to the bathroom in, say, the next fifteen minutes, I'll give you an 'A' that you'll never forget."

The only thing she hears before disappearing is a grunt.


End file.
